


The Shaper - The Watcher

by RenVal



Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 03:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13778889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenVal/pseuds/RenVal
Summary: The Shaper built a home for all his kindred. The Watcher taught them the ways of the night sky. And although they were different, they had each other.They did not know exactly what did that mean, though.





	1. Dawn

He was not afraid of the unexpected, nor was he anxious when confusion struck his mind, it was not the nervousness of the unknown what kept Malomedies in his place. Quite the contrary, it was a feeling of a new discovery about something he he already known. Well, someone. One of his kind. Kahedins.

They had shared time together, long conversations about variables and materials, about ways to understand the world and help it grow into a hospitable place for their kind. Malomedies knew his voice, the cadence of his words, his interests, and a couple of ways to break him from the creative trance that sometimes got his attention. Kahedins was far more attuned to the Dream of Dreams, a quality that sometimes caused him to get lost in reverie.

Right now, it was one of those times. A short moment of repose in the roots and ponds of the Pale Mother, a time of respite where most of their siblings slept. Malomedies was returning from a short expedition to her highest branches, his mind still thinking about the silent dance of the stars when the sight of the other sylvari got his attention. He called his name, but there was no answer; Kahedins was kneeling in the ground, enraptured and silent.

A lone, bright flower was blooming in silence, awaken by the delicate light of dawn. It was shaped with purpose and skill, as if someone had learnt the quiet language of life to give it instructions, a feat that few could achieve.

The feeling of magic made the breeze flow, carrying the truth of the new bloom; it would let itself be shaped by its creator, bending and changing to create a refuge for his kind. There was something in its desire to protect and embrace those who would live under its branches, just as there was a light in the gaze of Kahedins as he touched the large petals of the new flower.

Malomedies could not stop looking, the Dream singing in his mind, showing him a new feeling through the sheer beauty of the moment. Though the bloom was fascinating, it couldn’t be compared to Kahedins, his tender kindness irradiating almost physically, carried away by the wind currents that sang under the protection of the Pale Mother. The dream held something Malomedies did not know, yet he had always been aware of.

It was not like the pulse of starlight, nor like the patterns of light in the night sky, it was not like the imaterial rules of reality nor like the shapes of thought that rippled through the Dream. It was something that Malomedies could not understand, but he could feel. That which kept him quiet and motionless as the dawn woke the world around him.

Kahedins stood up slowly, his attention still captured by the beauty of the bloom he had shaped. Malomedies was still, quiet and cold as if the night itself clinged to him in the hope of not be banished by the light of dawn. He only moved when he saw the bright eyes of his fellow firstborn, and released a sigh he didn’t know he had held for so long.

Neither of them said anything. Kahedins smiled softly, and in that moment Malomedies knew that whatever that had kept him still was just as the truth of the flower that he had seen bloom. The wish to protect, to embrace, to hold, yet it was different from the light in the eyes of Kahedins. Warm as sunlight and yet unknown as the secrets that kept the night sky an enigma for him.

The nightborn sighed once more, giving up to the feeling and smiling softly, lowering his gaze to focus on what was racing through his mind. He was confused yet not afraid, ready to do anything, but without an idea of what did he want to do. Only one thing was clear in his mind; whatever it was, it would be to see Kahedins’ smile.


	2. Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there will be more! I said, forgetting to post as soon as I could.  
> Thanks to Kami for the proofreading, and Tameiki and Shehero6 for the comments in tumblr and here ;w;  
> Enjoy!

No matter what happened, no matter what kind of thought or doubt apprehended him, he could always return to the garden. Below the gentle and strong embrace of the Pale Mother, near the cliffs that oversaw the endless ocean, the gorgeous infinity of life showed itself in uncountable blossoms, all unique and beautiful by their own right. Some were humble and pale, dancing along their kind to the song of the sea breeze; others were bold and magnificent, lonely in their lavishing colors. To lay down among them was to feel sunlight and water turn into beauty, the mere magic of existence transforming the complex processes of life into something that transcended all possible explanations.

But as Kahedins felt the warmth of sunlight over him, he felt how his mind raveled around a feeling he had just known at dawn. Not in the garden but far below it, where the Pale Mother formed a canopy of shadow that could protect him and his kind from both the raging storm and the scorching heat of the bay. He knew the language of water and earth, and the ways in which wind and fire made paths for themselves in the world, but what he had seen and felt eluded him completely.

He closed his eyes, hoping that the Dream of Dreams could help him understand. And with a deep sigh, he remembered; instead of roses and lilies, there were lichen and mushrooms, instead of the warmth of day was the cold wind that heralded a new dawn born from the deepest darkness.

A new creation was blooming in his hands, after a whole sleepless night and endless days of studying and examining, of thought and invention, he had created a bloom that would serve as a home for someone he held dear. He had chosen the place with outmost care: a silent haven where nothing could interrupt a dedicated scholar, a place where he would decipher the invisible mysteries of the world. A house for Malomedies.

And as if the Dream itself had called him, Malomedies was there, looking at him. Enraptured at the sight of the new bloom and its magic: Kahedins knew that creations were nothing but intentions and feelings brought into the world by will and wit, and that in the new bloom was all the warmth he had harbored for Malomedies. It was visible and obvious for him, but he was sure that it was not like that for the nightborn. For him, his own creation was an answer, for Malomedies, it was a question.

Kahedins sighed and curled onto himself: a question, precisely the kind of enticement that would call a scholar into endless contemplation. He had no doubt that questions would be asked, even in silence: why had he chosen to dedicate his first creation to another instead of himself? What was that wish to protect him, if he was more than capable to fend for himself? And those were the questions that came from his creation, for there were even more bubbling in his mind.

He wanted to hold Malomedies and to be held by him, he wanted to soothe the aches of his body and his heart, to ease his life and to share his time with him. He wanted to caress his face and look into his eyes, to kiss his lips and soothe the anguish that the secrets of the night cut through his mind. To share his joy and ease his pain, to dispel his loneliness and feel the same bliss that illuminated him at the sight of the new bloom.

He felt an aching bliss searing through his heart, a physical sensation that drove him to tears and ecstasy at the same time. As if he was drowning in himself trying to find a name and a solution for what he was feeling. His thoughts rippling through the Dream, a scream of anguished delight that he thought was silenced by his own feelings of powerlessness.

But then he felt someone near. A very real presence crouching in the garden, carefully laying close to him without disturbing the flowers. Kahedins froze, and he opened his eyes slowly, hoping that it wasn’t Malomedies, reproaching himself for letting his own feelings loose all over the Dream.

A warm smile, a chuckle, a strong will and an even gentler spirit. Confident as the sun in the middle of the sky and the tides under the cliffs, his soft laugh comforting him, as if saying that everything had a proper answer and that no anguish could be unanswered under the loving embrace of the Pale Mother. Riannoc held no malice, and his gaze was one of acknowledgement, as if he knew exactly what to say and what to do.

And he certainly did.

**Author's Note:**

> Been far from writing way too long. I know. I still suck at summaries.
> 
> I can't believe this ship has only one fic. Shoutout to its author LukeVonCastiel. Whenever you are, your fics are amazing. All of them. 
> 
> Besides that, this fic was born out of my sheer love for a fanart: https://tameikishiro.tumblr.com/post/171122115428/just-a-very-quick-sketch-maybe-ill  
> It is amazing and I couldn't keep thinking about it. I hope I can write an scene with precisely that image in mind. Is just that gorgeous.
> 
> Special thanks to my beta-reader/Lady-of-war/girlfriend Kami_del_Antro who was there for 3 years helping me to feel confient enough and write again. Go and read her fics, and ask her in tumblr about Canach, you won't get dissapointed.


End file.
